


Reading What Takes Your Fancy

by Krystalicekitsu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Reading Aloud, Romance, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-27
Updated: 2010-06-27
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krystalicekitsu/pseuds/Krystalicekitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel, Sam has discovered, has a peculiar taste in books.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reading What Takes Your Fancy

**Author's Note:**

> for my [](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/profile)[**schmoop_bingo**](http://schmoop-bingo.livejournal.com/) card. With the prompt ' _reading aloud_ '.

Gabriel has this thing.

He likes to read.

Not where anyone ('anyone' being Dean or Cas) can see him, but Sam knows. He knows because the Yeats and the Langston on the bedside table aren't his (he hasn't read anything besides research texts in nearly six years) and the frequency with which they change rules out Dean or Castiel (who spend far too much time _in_ the bed, rather than _on_ it).

Gabriel, Sam has discovered, has a peculiar taste in books. Where Sam had thought he'd reach for sci-fi or fantasy novels, Sam never finds a one on the little edge Gabriel's books have claimed. Nor does he find historical fiction, or even non-fiction. There's occasionally poetry, sometimes a period novel as far from historically accurate as can be and still be classified as 'period'.

He finds Hemingway occupying the space for a night, but it's quickly replaced by a medical text that lasts just as long. A book on law comes next and is replaced the next morning by E. B. White's _Charlotte's Web_. That one, despite it's relatively short page count, stays for a week.

 _The Great Gatsby_ makes an appearance for a weekend but the following Monday brings a political text on the 2008 election that Sam has never seen before. A quick look through makes him think that, uh, _borrowing_ the book might alleviate some of his boredom on their next 10 hour trip back to Bobby's.

Sam watches as the weeks go by and a steady stream of literature is consumed by his bed partner- because they aren't lovers, because that implies _love_ which, you know, Trickster who killed his brother some two hundred Tuesdays or so- and Sam finally has to ask.

Because he knows (or, ok, he can guess) how Gabriel's getting them, but it's such an odd collection of books, and he's too curious for his own good to just let it be. But he also knows that Gabriel is an incredibly private person and if he thinks Sam is _prying_ , Sam will never get another word in on the subject.

So Sam waits until just the right moment, and springs the question.

The right moment just so happens to be right after three rounds of amazing sex after which Sam collapses back on the motel bed, sheets bunched under him scratching in a way that only cheep cotton can do, with Gabriel blissed out next to him in a naked, sweaty pile of uncoordinated limbs.

"Did'ju- did'ju ever re- read-," Sam gulps in a breath, "-Orwell?"

Sam's pretty sure that Gabriel pauses and does the really still thing he does whenever Sam manages to surprise him. It's kinda hard to tell though, when his chest is still fighting him for oxygen in a way that makes the whole world unsteady.

"'Orwell'?" Gabriel's tone is incredulous and Sam can't decided if it's an 'are you kidding? Of course I have!' or a 'what, really? _Read_ that drivel?'

Sam just waits. Mostly because constructing long sentences is still something his lung capacity has not quite recovered enough to do.

"Orwell was a stuck up, self involved, illiberal, Mccarthyist who _lived_ with a British flag shoved so far up his ass he burped the national anthem and shit out tea bags," Gabriel rolls over onto Sam when he's finished with an amused spark to his eyes. Sam grunts with the extra weight, but shifts his legs when Gabriel tries to wiggle between them.

"'Sides, I liked the movie better."

"The movie?"

Gabriel grins, " _Animal Farm_. The horses were _precious_."

Sam frowns, trying to remember, "Weren't the horses… no, wait, nevermind."

Sam shakes his head; Gabriel is far too good at distractions. Sam tries again.

"Did you like _A Farewell to Arms_?"

Gabriel grins, but it looks slightly painful, "It was a whole heap of fun. Henry was kind of a whiner and didn't really do much, but that Catherine Barkley- whew, man. That was one hard-ass chick."

Sam frowns again. Even supposing that Gabriel read up until the last second before Sam woke and that he read about six words a second, there's no way that Gabriel read the book in the one night he'd had it. And the way Gabriel was talking about the characters seemed to indicate he'd never read it before.

"And _Charlotte's Web_?" he's still frowning as Gabriel shrugs noncommittally.

"It was alright. A bit maudlin for my tastes, but there you go."

And now Sam was more confused because that was one book that seemed to keep making appearances. The pieces in his head were turning about, but Sam was beginning to suspect that he had bits from four different puzzles, made from different eras and, quite possibly, in different countries.

He keeps frowning, because he can't figure this out, but he knows he can't push this much further. But his curiosity is damn hard to put off.

Sam opens his mouth. Can't think of anything to say. Shuts it again. Opens his mouth again, but is still at a loss for words.

Gabriel watches his fish routine with a patiently interested look, hands folded on top of Sam's chest used as a convenient perch for his chin.

"Then- Why're- Gabriel, what's with the books?" Sam cringes as soon as the words are past his lips, but Gabriel only gives him a slow, sad smile and raises himself up to smooth palms soothingly over Sam's chest.

"I read to you."

Sam's starting to worry he's going to get wrinkles with all the frowning he's doing ( _God, Dean's right; I really am a girl_ ), but he clearly remembers a distinct _lack_ of reading to him from the archangel, "No, I’m pretty sure I would remember you reading to me."

The smile grows a bit weary, but stays on, "When you have nightmares. I read to you when you have nightmares."

Sam blinks and opens his mouth again as Gabriel rolls off him and turns to the other side of the bed. He only has to think for an eighth of a second before he rolls over too, and wraps an arm around the archangel's waist, pulling him in and spooning him.

He waits a beat, just breathing in the scent of wild mint and juniper leaves. Then-

"Do you think we could try the reading thing when I'm conscious next time?"


End file.
